The Dollmage

Chapter 10

The next day Manal was early at his house. For days he had hauled logs. He had paced off the size of the house on the ground, and with his spade he dug a shallow hollow along two sides of that space. Into each of the hollows he rolled his biggest logs, the sills. That was when I stopped him, forbade him to do any more until a doll was made of his house. He contented himself with making notches at the ends of the logs with his ax. The villagers plied him with questions. Why would an unmarried man build a house? Which of the rumors were true about Annakey? He ignored everyone, and so they began to question his mother, Norda Bantercross. Norda also ignored them and made a great business about sewing curtains and quilts and cushions for her son’s new house.

That morning, Manal stopped sawing when Annakey came and sat down beside his house with her materials.

“Annakey.” His voice was gentle. Manal, too, was grown wise.

“Dollmage has asked me to build the doll of your house,” Annakey said. These were the first words she had spoken to him since she had discovered the Evil doll with her own hands. How strange words sounded to her, now that she no longer had the same mouth. With new eyes, the sun seemed too bright and all the birds sounded tinny and shrill. There was nothing to protect her if he said the wrong thing.

“You have already built me a house in your own valley doll,” he said. “That is the house I want.”

“Dollmage does not know. I will pretend to build a house, and then I will go fetch the other.”

“This keeps you from making your contest doll,” Manal said.

“Manal, why did you not come to the summer meadow with me?” she asked.

“I was not told you were going,” he said.

Annakey looked up. “But Renoa said she would tell you....” Then she lowered her voice. “You must not believe all the stories Areth will tell you, that others will tell you....”

“I know you.”

Annakey closed her eyes and nodded. Then she knelt and began to work with the materials she had brought. “Manal, one thing is true. It is true that I promised myself to Areth, but—”

“You love me.”

“I do.” Annakey shook her head. “He was going to ... to hurt me, and so ... I promised to... marry him.”

“Then some of the stories are true. Now I will hurt him.” Manal leapt to his feet.

Annakey put her hand on his. “If you do so, it will not help me, and it will divide and destroy our village. I will not marry Areth. I have already broken the promise in my heart. But what will I do? If I break a promise, I cannot be Dollmage. If I am not Dollmage — Manal, listen — I cannot keep my first promise to be happy. Manal, what have I done?”

Manal was silent for a time, gathering himself.

“We will run away,” he said. “You will be my Dollmage.”

Annakey shook her head. “What of my promise to save the village from the robber people?”

Manal thought for a moment, and then said, “I, too, am a man of his promise, and I have promised myself to you, Annakey. That is all that is clear to me now. It is you I will love, whether you are married to me or not, and it is for you I build this house, whether you live in it or not.”

“I will make it right, Manal. I will make your house and a story for it.”

The two began to work in silence then. It was enough to know that the other was near. When it was time to eat, Manal brought her food. They were eating when Areth came by.

“What is this?” he asked.

Annakey felt a worm in her stomach, seeing Areth again. “Dollmage set me to make a doll of Manal’s new house,” she said.

“You will not eat with another man when you are promised to me,” Areth said.

Annakey stood. I will not tell you what Manal’s expression was at that moment. I will tell you that Areth wanted to walk away from it, and he did. Annakey gestured to Manal to stay behind, then caught up with Areth, the bread still in her hand.

“I do not want you to eat his food,” Areth said.

She took a bite and chewed and swallowed. “Areth, I have something to say to you.”

“You told Dollmage,” he said. He held up his slashed promise doll. “This is what she did to me.” He turned and walked away, and Annakey followed. He turned to her and said, “Why do you follow me?”

“I must speak to you.”

“Go away. I cannot bear the sight of you.”

“Areth,” she said, “does that mean you release me from my promise?”

He laughed, his eyes as hard as those of the War doll. “I do not release you.”

“But you do not love me.”

“No. I hate you. The sight of you makes me sick.”

“Once, we were friends,” she said.

“Do not use your gentle ways with me,” he said, and his hand fisted. “You have hurt me. I know you now to be evil. If I find you again with Manal, I will kill you.”

Annakey stood shaking, her lips gray. “I will tell Dollmage you threatened to kill me. She will find a way to release me from my promise.”

“I will deny what I have said.”

“You would lie?”

“You would break your promise to me? Who possesses the greater evil, Annakey? I have known, perhaps since we were children together, that you were a promise breaker.” His voice was rising, and the muscles in his neck protruded.

“Then you do not know me.”

“I know you. I know you better than Manal knows you. I know your heart to be evil.”

“Let me go then, Areth.”

He slapped her face. “You have promised yourself to me, and you belong to me. I have told the whole village. Now, go away from me.”

Annakey stepped back. The blood in her heart was black. “I followed you to tell you I will not marry you,” she said, her voice shaking.

Areth’s lips were gray. “Then my mother spoke true when she said you would break your promise?”

“I have already,” Annakey said, gasping. “I will never marry you. Tell whom you will. I would rather die.”

Annakey ran hard to her secret place beside the rushy river, to fetch the true doll of Manals house. First, she listened to the river shushing her heart. She began to touch the pale green clay in the river shallows.

On the great, flat rock was her valley doll, and in it, her village doll. She had made the valley over and over, striving to get it right. She had made it in fall, the fog knee-deep in the golden wood, the berries glossy on the bush. She had made the valley in winter, the snows deep to the tree trunks, the green mosses turned to gray. Now, however, as she looked at it in its spring, she saw that it was still not quite Seekvalley. It was different — a distortion. She could gather no happiness from it, seeing that it was wrong. What could she have been thinking? Had she no eye to see? It did not occur to Annakey that she was taking the story of the village entirely from me. She did not think it was good enough.

She could not work on it today She leaned over the river and took from its bottom more of the smooth, green clay. She began to fashion the doll of a bear. When Annakey finished the doll of the bear, she made a wildcat. After a time she breathed deeply, and smiled just a little. Enough to keep her first promise. She knew what she would do to save her people.

There was no time now. She had to return with the doll of Manals house and report to me. Just before she left, she saw something floating in the river. It floated into the quiet little bay at her feet.

It was the Evil doll she had made and left buried in leaves at the summer meadow.

The worm in her stomach twisted again. A spider in her head tickled her brain. How did the Evil doll come here? Did one of the sheepdogs pick it up and drop it into the river? Her arms were stiff as sticks as she watched it bobbing in the water. Finally, she reached down and picked it up.

She carried the doll of Manal’s house and the Evil doll into the tame parts of the valley.

She buried the Evil doll in Fatbarley’s field.

Then she went to Manal’s house and set about improving upon the doll of it. She did not see Manal watching her, stopping his work to look at her. She was trying to forget the drowned face of the Evil doll by working hard. She built the chimney strong and safe, and the floors without creaks. She made the doors solid against the winter winds, and stone walls cool against the summer heat. I tell you that she tried to build a place for her soul to hide.

It did not work.

Renoa came to her as twilight was coming on.

“I have almost finished my contest doll,” she said. “And you?”

“I have not begun yet,” Annakey said. “First light, I will begin.”

“Are you sure this is not your attempt?” Renoa asked.

In her hands was the Evil doll.

“How did you—?”

“A pig dug it up in Fatbarley’s field and deposited at the door of his house. He took it as an omen. I know you made it. Who else could make such a monstrosity? I am going to show Dollmage.”

“No, Renoa, please.”

“When Dollmage and the villagers see this, there will no longer be any need for a contest.”

Annakey put her hands on either side of her head.The spider in her head was making her imagine pushing Renoa.

Manal approached the girls, sweating from his work.

“Look what Annakey has done,” Renoa said to him. “Are you sure you want her making your house?”

Annakey stood. She could not look at Manal for fear that there would be disappointment in his eyes.

“The doll is you, Renoa,” Manal said. “I see a resemblance.”

Renoa glared and grabbed Annakey’s arm. “We are going to see Dollmage.”

“I can explain,” Annakey said, pulling back.

“Explain to Dollmage,” she said.

They both came to my house, but I was asleep.

“Stay here the night,” Renoa said to Annakey. “At first light we must show Dollmage what you have done.”

When Renoa was asleep, Annakey took the doll to the village bakery oven. She threw the doll into the bottom of the oven below the grills, and closed the door.

In the morning there came a desperate knocking at my door, waking me. It was Deen Highchimney.

“Come to my house, Dollmage. My wife is hysterical.”

Prim Highchimney had been on the verge of hysteria ever since she had finally become pregnant after five years of marriage. Every tiny thing made her weep. I was still too sleepy to wonder why Annakey was in my kitchen peeling rutabagas. Renoa was still asleep. I nodded to Annakey. “Go. See what Prim weeps over this time. If it is a great thing, come for me and I will deal with it. I suspect she needs comforting only.”

Annakey went.

At the Highchimneys’ door, Prim stood trembling. In her hands was a large loaf of bread, broken open. In the bread was the Evil doll.

“I was going into the mountain today to pray for my child that has not been born,” she said. “As I prepared a meal to bring, I found this. God is telling me I am going to have an ugly baby, a monster child.”

Annakey snatched up the Evil doll.The Evil doll was more hideous even than before. The fire had burned into the face what could be taken as eyes and a mouth.

“No, Prim, do not be sad. This has nothing to do with you.” She lowered her voice. “Would you like me to make a pregnancy doll for you, Prim? I will make it the most beautiful baby. Only you must say nothing of this thing you found in your bread.”

Prim smiled wanly “I asked Dollmage to make a pregnancy doll for me, but she said she was too old and her powers too weak. She said to wait until the contest decided things and then Renoa would make one for me. Will you make it today?”

Annakey swallowed. If she made it today, when would she make her contest doll?

“I will make it today,” she said.

She looked at the Evil doll as she walked away, and almost called it “Renoa.” Renoa was the source of all her trouble and her unhappiness. She threw the doll into the river, watched it float downstream, and returned to my house.

Renoa was still sleeping when Annakey returned to the house. When she awoke she looked for the Evil doll, but it was gone. She tried to explain to me that Annakey had made a monster doll, but when I asked Annakey about it, she told me she had thrown it in the river. “It was a mistake,” she said. I was too busy to press her further and so I dropped it, but I could see Renoa haunting her all day about it.

All morning, Annakey worked on a doll. She was secretive. She would not let me see it. Toward noon, she disappeared with it.

“In the morning,” I called after her.“In the morning, I will see your contest doll anyway.”

At the Highchimneys’ house, only Deen was there.

“I have the pregnancy doll finished,” Annakey said.

Deen looked at it and smiled and nodded. “It is just like her,” he said.

“Where is she?”

“She has gone to the mountain to pray that her child will not be ugly.”

“Deen! Alone?”

“Alone.”

“But the robber people ... Did not Dollmage go to Weepers Stump to tell the people not to go out of the village alone?”

Deen frowned. “Dollmage has not stood on Weepers Stump since last spring.”

“But the robber people ... Could you not realize of yourself how dangerous it would be to let her go alone?”

Deen’s frown turned to fear. “I told her not to go, but she would not listen to me. I wanted to go with her, but she refused, said it was womens worship.”

Annakey ran outside and stood looking into the near mountain, the pregnancy doll hanging from her hand.

“When did she say she would return?” Annakey demanded.

Deen shook his head. He was almost crying now. “She said she would be back in time to make my dinner, and now it is almost suppertime.”

Annakey dropped the pregnancy doll and ran to my house.

Of course I called together all the men of the village and we began to search for her. I saw the accusation in Annakey’s eyes when she told me that Prim was late coming home from her pilgrimage. She had told me to warn the villagers at Weeper’s Stump and I had not. Was it my fault that a villager could be so stupid? No, it was God’s Fault, capital F.

We searched until the sunlight failed and then we searched in the twilight. It was Annakey that saw Prim running along a narrow path cut into the cliffside of the mountain face opposite us. She called out. Prim saw us, stopped, and then, with a glance behind her, continued running as fast as her pregnant body would let her. Only then did we see two robber men pursuing her.

The men of the search party screamed threats at the robber men. When they were almost upon her, Prim lost her footing and fell.

She did not die. Some feet below her was a gravel shelf, and there she lay, out of reach of the robber men. They turned back, and were gone by the time we came to her.

Prim was bruised about her bottom, and for that reason I did not bruise her bottom myself. That night she was delivered of twins, a boy and a girl. At dawn, half of you were outside her door waiting to see the babies.

“There. You see there was nothing to worry about,” I said to Prim.

“It is because of the pregnancy doll Annakey made for us,” Deen said in his joy. He held it up for me to see. Some of you villagers were peering in the door.

“This is your contest doll?” I asked.

“No,” Annakey said, “I have not had time yet to make my contest doll.”

“Dollmage, Annakey made us a doll and now all is well. Is she not your successor then?” Prim asked weakly.

“It was not her pregnancy doll but mine that made everything well,” Renoa said.

She stood in the doorway, having elbowed her way through to the front. The new day’s light was behind her so that her face was in shadow. “You said the contest would be over in the morning, Dollmage. It is morning. This is the contest doll I made. It is a pregnancy doll for Prim.”

I looked at the doll. It, too, was good.

I looked at the curious faces of the villagers in the door and windows, and those behind craning their necks to see. “How can I tell whose doll is responsible for delivering Prim safely?” I said aloud.

“Judge you, Dollmage,” Renoa said. “Look inside my pregnancy doll.”

I took the baby out of her pregnancy doll, and then in delight saw that there was another baby inside. “Twins, Renoa.You promised her twins!”

The whispers of the crowd grew to murmurs.

Renoa smiled in triumph at Annakey. “How many babies are there in Annakey’s doll?”

I looked. “Only one,” I said. “A boy. There is the contest. Renoa, you are my successor.”

“But ... but that was not meant to be my contest doll,” Annakey stammered. “I only made it to help Prim—”

“What does it matter?” Renoa said. “Finally we have seen that I am the true Dollmage.”

I faced the crowd.

“There will be a feast. Annakey, at the feast you must promise that from now on you will not make any dolls.”

Annakey glanced up at the mountains.

“What about the robber people?” she asked.“I have a plan. If you will only let me do one more thing.”

“I have proof enough, now, Annakey,” I said gently. “Be humbled. Come, and serve your new Dollmage.”

What was in Annakey’s eyes at that moment? I told myself she was merely sad to lose.

“I see now that this is why God gave you a frowning promise doll — because you were going to be sad to lose.”

“Dollmage,” she said, “if only you will let me make the dolls necessary to chase the robber people away.”

“Come, Renoa,” I said, going out the door.

Renoa followed, and so also did Annakey. I did not stop to hear her, but she followed me, protesting all the time. It was shameful that she would degrade herself so, and I said as much. “Remember your promise to be happy—”

I stopped short. A wail was coming from the house of Deen and Prim Highchimney. A wail, oh, the wail of unspeakable pain, and it did not stop, no, it did not stop, not even when I rushed back into the house to see what was the trouble.

This was the trouble: Prims baby girl had died.